


Agape

by I_Shouldnt_Be_Here



Series: Love is known as... [1]
Category: Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan (2020)
Genre: Based on the types of love found in ancient Greek literature, Boys In Love, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Some beautiful scenery, Title means universal love or love for nature
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24428044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Shouldnt_Be_Here/pseuds/I_Shouldnt_Be_Here
Summary: A road trip to Shimla and a stolen evening on an apartment terrace in Delhi have much in common. Aman thought he knew what love meant, but Kartik rattled the foundations of those beliefs just by existing.
Relationships: Kartik Singh/Aman Tripathi
Series: Love is known as... [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764058
Comments: 29
Kudos: 46





	Agape

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy!

Kartik hiked upward, panting due the ten degree incline of the land. Aman tagged behind him. Kartik walked shorter steps to compensate for Aman’s smaller strides. 

“Aur kitni door hai? Aur paanch baje kaun aise bahar nikalta hai...” Aman asked, looking at a yellow weed growing on the side of the path. The blue grey needles of pine trees took on an eerie air.

_ (How much further? And who gets up at five for a stroll?) _

“Bas thodi hi duur hai, chinta mat kar, jungle me nahi lekar jaaunga.”

_ (Just a little further. Don’t worry, I won’t take you deep inside the wilderness.) _

Aman thought otherwise, but he did not bring the words upon his lips. His breath was running out and he wasn’t about to waste it upon an obstinate boyfriend. His shoes crunched over leaves and pine needles. He could hear the sound of rushing water nearby.

Kartik walked slower, signalling the end of their hike. They had walked to the rear of the hotel in which they stayed.

“Aaj shaam ko hi yeh jagah dekha. Socha ki tumhe bhi idhar lekar aaun.” Kartik said. Until then, Aman’s eyes were focused downward, maintaining a careful watch against stray pine cones or animal dung. The sound of rushing water got stronger.

_ (I noticed this place in the evening today. Thought that I’d bring you here.) _

The place was lit by the sparse lighting of garden lamps. It was that back end of the hotel people rarely visited. Aman saw the plain grey back end of the building, completely betraying its cheerful front. It was obscured by a grey crown of willow leaves. Aman watched Kartik playing with an overhanging twig of willow. His fingers ran over the thin, greyish green, furry leaves of the willow. Aman gave a warning look to Kartik, his eyes telling him not to pluck the leaves.

Aman wanted to reach up too, but he was too short. Kartik chuckled, after looking at his boyfriend jumping up, struggling to reach the leaves. Aman gave him a disgruntled glance, which made Kartik chuckle even more. Aman knew he had to get his revenge, but he would wait.

“Chal baithtey hain. I’ll find a place.” Kartik wandered a few metres forward while Aman raised his chin and took in the view. It was beautiful, to say the least. 

_ (Let’s sit down. I’ll find a place.) _

The sun was about to rise and the sky was coloured a smoky grey blue. He wrapped his jacket tighter around himself. 

There was a rocky, rushing creek, surrounded by a few granite boulders. Round white stones interrupted the sparkling clear water. A willow leaf fell gently into the creek and burned golden for a second in the garden lamplight before floating away. The uneven ground was littered with pine needles, pine cones and pebbles. He breathed out puffs of vapour into the chilly early morning air. Those small clouds born from Aman’s lips dissipated, or maybe departed skyward to join their larger cousins.

“Idhar aa, I found a place!” Kartik exclaimed, finding the sole piece of acceptably flat land in all of Shimla. He raised his arm in a flourish but Aman was fixated upon the rushing sounds of the creek. The creek was sheltered by willows, pines and the occasional wild apple tree with bumpy hard green fruits. The trees cast strange, wavering shadows over the water.

_ (Come here! I found a place!) _

Kartik wrapped his hand around Aman and they both sat on the ground. Kartik sat cross legged and Aman nestled his head on Kartik’s lap. Aman met Kartik’s eyes, borrowing some of their sparkle while Kartik played with Aman’s hair. Aman was overwhelmed at the amount of affection Kartik’s eyes had for him. He parted his lips to speak but Kartik put his finger over them, parting the white cloud born from his lips into two. Aman lingered in Kartik’s lap, and both of their gazes wandered, focusing on the beautiful scenery. Hour long minutes passed in silence.

Aman thought that Kartik's  _ soorat _ could easily rival the beauty around them. 

"Arre Aman, woh Chinar ka pedh hai kya?" Kartik pointed to a tree with conical, drooping foliage. It looked very much like a Christmas tree.

Aman snorted. That tree was a Chinar if turtles had been tigers.

_ (Hey Aman, is that a chinar tree?) _

"Hans kyu rahe ho?"

_ (Why are you snickering like that?) _

"Wo chi-nar nahi deo-dar hai… Chinar sirf Kashmir mei milenge, Shimla mei nahi. Dono words bas rhyme kiye toh kuch bhi?" 

_ (That’s not a chi-nar but a deo-dar… You’ll find chinars only in Kashmir, not in Shimla. Whatever goes, right? Just because two words rhyme?) _

"Haan, haan, puch kar hi galti ki… I should have known, botanist ki aulaad ho." Aman smiled. Kartik wore a disgruntled look this time.

_ (Yes, yes, should have known. Botanist’s son and whatnot.) _

Aman suddenly raised his head and got on his hands and knees. Kartik's eyes widened as Aman came closer to his face. His raised eyebrow got larger in Kartik’s field of vision as he mischievously nudged closer on fours. Kartik stretched his legs and went scurried backwards, his eyes widening with each scramble.

“Arre arre… ye kya kar rahe ho?” Kartik gulped. And stared at Aman’s adam’s apple doing the same. 

“Tumhare paas aa raha hoon. Nahi kar sakta kya?” 

_ (Coming closer to you. Can’t I do that?) _

Aman caught his lip between his teeth. Kartik felt the back of his neck getting warmer. His baby strongest could be quite a flirt. Aman twirled his finger in front of Kartik’s eyes, making them follow each movement with charming eagerness. 

Kartik watched Aman’s finger trace the outline of his cheekbone, then felt the shivers when his thumb traced his lips. His lips parted and his tongue poked out to wet the tip of Aman’s thumb. His eyes focused on Aman’s alone.

Then Kartik heard a rustle. Kartik’s elbows turned to rubber and he fell flat on the ground. Aman’s hands immediately rushed to cradle his head. And then he knew that the moment was gone. The fear faded away from each other’s eyes and Aman nearly crashed onto Kartik’s chest in relief. He was afraid that someone would catch them in such a position, yet leaving Kartik’s embrace was  _ the  _ toughest thing in the world right now.

Kartik adjusted himself to rest over one elbow. Aman unzipped his jacket and cuddled over Kartik’s chest. Kartik kissed the top of his head. 

“Udhar dekh.” He took Aman’s hand and pointed their linked fingers to a gap in the trees. A marvellous sunrise announced itself in its red-orange finery. Aman was no Wordsworth, but this, was one of the most beautiful moments of his life. 

The creek wasn’t dazzlingly beautiful, and the trees weren’t especially resplendent. He could safely say that the Lodhi gardens looked better in winters. What made the memory stand out brilliantly was Kartik’s presence.

Aman let his mind wander, his body safely ensconced in Kartik’s. He wanted to kiss him, but that could wait. All he wanted to do right now was stay in his arms and watch the sun rising. He wanted to sit back and enjoy the spectacle of a sunrise in Shimla. His fingers circled around Kartik’s wrist and then intertwined with Kartik’s own.

Aman felt the comfortable material of Kartik’s jacket swishing against his hair. Kartik’s arm surrounded his chest, and the warmth increased tenfold. Aman let his mind wander, occasionally raising his chin up to glance playfully into Kartik’s black-brown eyes. 

As always, Aman’s musings found their anchor in Kartik. He marvelled at how Kartik had love for everyone that crossed his path. As if his heart was a roti which grew larger with every piece he broke off with a tender hand. Kartik grew up with less than enough love, and all he had for the world was  _ love. _

This went against his mother’s and father’s repeated ‘blood is thicker than water’ and ‘trust no one except family’ lessons drilled into his head ever since he was a shy, starry-eyed boy in Allahabad. Being a hesitant wallflower, his cousins were his first friends. Later when he grew up, he knew that he had mistaken unconditional love for  _ unquestioned _ love. A sort of love peculiarly deep and fragile in its own ways, wherein statements like ‘beta, mai tumhari maa/tumhara baap hoon, tum mujhe kuch bhi bataa sakte ho’ were thrown around without the lips speaking them actually realising their weight. Especially for a queer person.

_ (Son, I’m your mother/father, you can tell me anything you want to.) _

In later years, when he was prone to locking up himself in his room for long periods of time because he simply couldn’t bear to face his family, his parents had lost their earlier patience. Now they repeatedly prodded him with ‘beta, tumhaari  _ problem _ kya hai? Batao to sahi!’ 

_ (Son, what the hell is your problem? Tell us!) _

Those words were first put off by ‘baad mei bataunga’, then both Aman and his parents did not bother. The inflection upon  _ ‘problem’  _ did especially hurtful things to Aman.

Yet this did not hamper their relationship at all, wherein  _ pyaar _ was doled out by the bucketful, but without the kind of brutally honest words found in all other sorts of love.

His parents’ love built a comfortable glass prison around his chest, one which completely rejected affections from the outside world at worst and treated them with mistrust and disregard at best.

And Aman dragged that weighty glass prison all the way from Allahabad to Delhi, until the edges were slowly chipped away by Kartik.

Meeting Kartik showed him that there was something powerful in sharing your love with people outside of family. To Kartik, it was second nature, since he did not have one. His friendships were unusually deep, his hugs a second longer, his smiles a millimetre wider. He gave love when all he needed was some for himself. He wore his vulnerability on his sleeve, getting badly mistreated quite a few times but never a time too many. 

“Kya soch rahe ho, baby?” Kartik interrupted his train of thought.

_ (Penny for your thoughts, baby?) _

“Aise hi, soch raha thha ki humne aisa aakhri baar Delhi ke apartment complex ki terrace pe kiya thha.” Aman lied with a smile. Kartik separated a section of his hair and twirled in between his fingers.

_ (I was thinking about the last time we did this, on the terrace of an apartment complex in Delhi.) _

“Haan, yaad hai, kaise mujhe security guard se bheek mangni padi thhi chaabi ke liye? Banda pakka soch raha hoga ki main suicide kar lunga. Mujhe uska sehma hua chehra yaad hai.” 

_ (Yes, I remember how I had to beg for the keys to the terrace. I swear he thought that I was suicidal. I remember his bewildered face clearly.) _

They lived in a twenty-storied building in Delhi, with each building in the surrounding aiming to thrust its concrete dick into the sky higher and yet higher. All of them looked the same, the height and uniformity a testament to Delhi’s unoriginal architects and its shrinking two dimensional space.

But, that night, Aman hid in the stairwell and eagerly awaited for Kartik-with-the-keys. They laid in each other’s arms, upon a few sheets of the Times of India. Aman listened to the rustle and occasional rip of the newspapers below them and stared into Delhi’s polluted winter sky. 

“Udhar dekho…” Kartik dragged his attention to the present. 

_ (Look over there…) _

“Kya hai udhar?”

_ (What’s over there?) _

“Kuch nahi, dekha ki tum bade hi lost ho, aur I don’t want you to miss a moment of this sunrise.”

_ (Nothing, I noticed that you seemed very lost, and I didn’t want you to miss a moment of this sunrise.) _

Aman smiled and pecked Kartik’s lips. 

“Itne cute kyu ho yaar?” Kartik blushed. Aman was surprised that he could make him blush even after three years of dating.

_ (Why are you so cute?) _

He nestled into Kartik’s chest yet again. He knew that it was easier to find beauty and love here, tucked into pinecones, draped over the riverbed stones and funnelled into the flaming red rhododendrons. It was easier because this place inspired love, and countless lovers in this very spot would have found their love reflected in the smallest fragments that made up this landscape.

Aman knew that similarly, he would find love in Delhi’s grey roads and greyer mundaneness one day. He knew that the nooks and crannies would become his home. He knew that he would find love in its simplest form, without Wordsworth-esque profundity weighing it down.

And Kartik would show him the way.

He got up, stretched and walked in lazy circles to take in the view. Kartik observed him, but gave up after a while.

“Aman, chal wapas chalte hain…” Kartik got up from the comfortable grass.

_ (Aman, let’s go back…) _

“Ouch! Why is there a pinecone inside my jacket?” 

...

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Well, I was researching about Ancient Greek mythology. Stuff went from Helen to Aphrodite, to the kinds of love, to this very couple which seems to have occupied the majority of my headspace these days. Well, the rest is history.  
> And for fluff, I tried! Isse zyada nahi hoga...
> 
> I littered this piece with plant names because of my bio-nerd soul hehe. So I apologise if I sent anyone on an unplanned Googling spree.  
> Agape is universal love, charity, or love for nature. Later it also took on the meaning of 'love for the divine'. I did not use that aspect of agape, because I didn't want this piece to be burdened by unnecessary piousness.
> 
> Tell me how you felt about this...  
> This is going to be a seven part series, so stay tuned!  
> Have a good day/night,  
> Kudos and comments make my day!  
> -Advaita


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